


drama of contradictions

by Yudonomi



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Family, Gen, Hurt Number Five | The Boy, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Post Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26214706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yudonomi/pseuds/Yudonomi
Summary: Forced out of the Sparrow Academy and into a crappy rented motel room, Vanya can't sleep. Neither can Five.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 14
Kudos: 154





	drama of contradictions

**Author's Note:**

> did i rewatch s1? yes. am i considering watching s2 a third time? also yes. do i think five needs a break? biggest yes.

When Vanya woke up, it was two in the morning, and one of Allison's knees dug into her legs while Klaus' arm laid across them. Their bed was by no means a comfortable fit, but at least it had more free space than their other three siblings in the only other bed. Not being able to will herself back to sleep, she slowly climbed over her sister's and brother's limbs. She noticed a trickle of light on the floor and followed it to the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, but she rapped her knuckles on it just in case.

"Occupi- shit!"

Now fully awake, she swung the door open to reveal Five sitting on the floor, holding a ball of cotton in one hand, with his tie, jacket, and socks hanging on the edge of the sink beside him. A bottle of rubbing alcohol was overturned a few feet away, spilling its contents.

"The hell, Five- you said you were fine before we left!" Exclaimed Vanya, reaching for the bottle, but Five glared at her. She scowled back, scanning her brother. Stitches ran down his arm, and she remembered cleaning those up for him, but the flecks of dark red and brown spotting his shirt looked new.

"I am." Five frowned, not breaking eye contact as he picked up the bottle of alcohol. "Now get out. If you need to use the bathroom, come back later."

"You're bleeding!"

"It's not mine." He snapped. "Don't make me repeat myself."

Vanya shook her head, pressing her lips firmly. They stared at each other, and Five's hands began to glow a soft blue. Tense seconds passed, and she almost visibly sagged in relief when the blue faded away and Five sighed and motioned towards the bedroom where their other siblings were, "Close the door."

She did as told then turned back to Five, who had now gone back to cleaning his assortment of scratches, none of which looked older a few weeks. At least they weren't bleeding; he hadn't lied about that. She reached for the first aid kit by his feet and took out a small piece of cotton and doused it in rubbing alcohol. Five gave her a look, but said nothing as Vanya worked on the gashes on his right knee.

Some of the more open ones had small fibres in them where his socks had stuck, while others had a small layer of dust around them. She dabbed the cotton on the scratches, and even though she was sure some would have had stung, Five did not even so much as wince. Unlike her, he had never been much of a crybaby, even as a child, but she was sure that the alcohol must have at least stung. She threw away the dirty cotton and dug around her pockets. She sighed in relief as her fingers found what she was looking for and she pulled out a bottle of iodine. She poured some of it on a new cotton ball and went back to cleaning the scratches.

Five raised a brow. "Where did you get that?"

"Harlan- the boy at the farm- was really active. Kept getting scratched and stuff, so Sissy learned to always keep some on hand. I did too." Vanya tried to keep her voice even. It hadn't even been a day and she already missed Sissy. She was probably somewhere out there in California, old and free and hopefully happy.

Vanya had wanted to grow old with her, too. Her hand shook as she patted the cotton on a gash on Five's knee. With his current body, he looked the same age as Harlan and it was too easy to see him in front of her instead of her brother.

Just as she began to sink deeper in thought, she was brought back by Five taking the iodine from her hand and using some of it himself as he continued to work on his right arm, where the stitches were. It was a miracle how they still held even after so much fighting.

"I didn't  _ want _ to take you away from them."

"I know."

"But we don't belong in 1963. Just like their 1963 selves don't belong in 2019."

"I know." She didn't, really, but Vanya liked to think that she knew Five enough to know that he wouldn't be needlessly cruel to their family. If he said something had to be done, then it had to be- no matter what.

Vanya shook her head and focused on the next scratch. She hoped she wouldn't cause another apocalypse a week from now. Or if she had to, that Five would not find out, if only so he would finally have some peace of mind. Their entire family needed a break. 

Speaking of family...A thought came into her mind and out of her mouth before she knew it. "I saw Ben."

"I'm not blind. We all did." All grown up and in a different uniform, but still undeniably the brother they had lost too young.

"In 1963, I mean. He was actually there."

A moment passed before Five clicked his tongue, dabbing away at a large scratch on his arm. The iodine made angry large golden-brown spots. "So Klaus lied." He scoffed. "Nice to see that ghosts can time travel after all."

"He can also possess people, I guess," added Vanya, "At least that's how I think he stopped me from..." she trailed off, and Five nodded.

"Six of us and it's the dead one that manages to save the world."

"I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be. The Feds deserved it after what they did to you." He replied immediately, his green eyes staring straight at Vanya's hazel ones. His expression was a mix she couldn't quite read, but had the tip of her tongue on, then the moment passed and he turned to his arm. He gave it a look, twisting it once then twice, and tilted his head. "I can take it from here. Go back to bed, Vanya."

"You're still hurt." Vanya pointed out, hovering a cotton ball above his knee. There were around a half dozen more gashes she hadn't cleaned yet, not to mention the huge bruise on his forehead.

"I already told you, I'm fine." He said, standing up and starting to put on his left sock. It rubbed against his injuries, and she watched him inhale sharply as he pulled it over his leg. "Get some sleep. I'll catch up in a bit."

" _ Five _ ."

"I survived your apocalypse; I can clean up after myself."

Vanya flinched. Fair enough. She looked up and tried to see the weary senior that supposedly had a body count only she could rival, but the Five that looked back at her was just her height, too small and petulant to look anything but like the brother who went to hell and back for her and the rest of their family, twice.

But appearances were deceiving, and the grumpy teen in the Umbrella Academy uniform in front of her was still an adult almost twice her age, as much as he acted otherwise. Vanya threw her hands in the air and sighed as they landed back on her lap. "Fine," she said, fumbling for the right words, "just...please tell us next time you're hurt? I- We all want to take care of you, especially if you're not going to do it yourself."

Five knelt back down as he folded his sock. The corner of his mouth quirked up. "And put myself in the care of your empty heads? No thanks."

She shook her head with a small smile and got up, wiping her hands on her pants. "Good night, Five."

"Night."

"You can keep the iodine."

He only grunted in reply, and Vanya gave Five, who was putting on his other sock, one last glance before she stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She crawled back into bed, and Allison groaned as Vanya nudged away her leg to make space. Klaus' arm moved to lay across his sisters, effectively trapping them, and Vanya stared at the ceiling, thinking of brothers, apocalypses, and farms until she fell asleep.

.

.

.

Five grit his teeth and hissed as he stood up and made his way to the door. It had been a mistake to assume everyone would stay asleep until morning. He locked the door and jiggled the handle a few times to make sure before he limped back to the wall and slid down, unbuttoning his shirt to a mess of red, purple, and yellow that was his torso.

Rewinding time had healed his bullet wounds, but not the shrapnel injury from 1955 last week. It was still there, the seams barely holding his skin together, among a bunch of other welts from the various fights he had gotten into. He gingerly touched the wound and hissed when blood oozed onto his fingertips.

"Shit," he murmured as he took out another cotton ball from the first aid kit. Hardly ideal, but it wasn't like he paid for it either. At least he had iodine now.

He tried to clean up the blood as best as he could before covering the wound up with a haphazard bunch of gauze and masking tape. It would hold for a bit, but he still needed to get a sewing kit soon to have any chance of healing. Assuming he would not get into any more fights (as unlikely as that was, what with absolutely fucking up both the timeline and the Commission), he would be back in top shape in a month or so. There was no need to tell the others of his condition, and they could actually focus on getting stuff done instead of hovering around Five with like he was a fragile piece of glass.

He threw the iodine and other medical items back into the kit. Done cleaning up, Five exhaled and threw his head back, hitting the wall. Fuck. He hoped it wouldn't become another bruise. His head hurt enough as it was and there was no way he could get enough ice for everything.

There were still many things he had to sort out. The Sparrow Academy, Ben, and whatever else that had changed. Why was Dad still alive? Did Claire even exist? He doubted it, but he wouldn't be the one to break that news to Allison.

Worst case scenario, his past self from the-2019-before-1963 was also running around and looking for his family. He'd rather not go through another round of paradox psychosis. Or maybe Five had destabilized his entire existence by creating a 2019 that did not have an apocalypse for his actual 13 year old self to get stuck in- wouldn't that be something!

Well, he just hoped that the universe would be satisfied erasing only himself. His siblings weren't the ones flipping a middle finger at it by playing with time and space, and seeing them die three times was more than enough for a lifetime.

But until then, he'd damn make sure nothing and nobody ever touched his family again.

He sat on the floor for another minute, forcing his ragged breathing to even out before pulling himself up. He washed the blood off his fingers and buttoned up his shirt. A small patch of red was visible on the cloth where the wound had leaked through earlier, but the vest would cover that enough. 

Five put on his vest and jacket and straightened his tie before leaving the bathroom. Vanya really was back in bed, squished beside Allison beneath Klaus' arm, while in the other bed, Diego and Luther were trying to put as much space between them as possible.

Not really wanting to squeeze in between his brothers, Five made his way to the chair in the other corner of the room and decided that it was good enough. As his eyes drooped close for the first time in a week, he took in the peacefully sleeping faces of his family and hoped that this was a timeline where they'd finally live.

  
  



End file.
